


The Eagle and the Prince

by Plenoptic



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Drabbles, M/M, much gay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-14
Updated: 2015-11-09
Packaged: 2018-04-26 08:39:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4998124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Plenoptic/pseuds/Plenoptic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ezivelli drabbles for all your Ezivelli needs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First

He should have known. Ezio was too damn literal—of course he would take a muttered “Oh, fuck me sideways” as an _invitation._ The notice of a botched contract lay on the floor, quite forgotten, as was the aggravation it had invoked. Niccolò stuttered out a moan when Ezio’s rolling hips shifted and found a deeper angle, so deep he could practically taste Ezio in the back of his throat.

“Fuck,” Ezio mumbled. He readjusted his grip on Niccolò’s ass, spreading him a little wider, swept the fingers of his free hand around his lover’s hole, stretched obscenely wide to accommodate his girth.

Niccolò closed his eyes and bit the pillow to keep from crying out (or laughing, because Ezio’s fingers were rubbing behind his balls and it sort of tickled). He’d never fucked like this—on his side while Ezio splayed himself on top and forced himself into the cleft of his lover’s ass, holding Niccolò open with one hand and using the other to trail oil-slicked touches over the aching erection cradled between Niccolò’s thighs.

“Is this good?” Ezio’s words left him in a near-whisper; it was so _tight_ like this.

“Yes,” Niccolò breathed, brushing a reassuring touch across the burly fingers currently rubbing the swollen head of his cock. He licked at his dry lips, a surprised groan wrenched from deep in his gut when Ezio suddenly leaned over him to kiss him, mouth watering at the slide of Ezio’s tongue along his. He felt more than heard his mentor’s rich moan, a vibration along his teeth. “E-Ezio— _mm._ Wait—”

“What—” Ezio paused, lowering his mouth to huff a hot breath against the younger man’s throat, ceasing his fervent fucking with a quiet groan through gritted teeth. “What’s wrong? Too rough?”

“No, it’s—that’s just—” Niccolò placed a hand on the master assassin’s chest, running his fingertips along the heaving muscles, watching Ezio’s sultry gaze darken with want. “That’s the first time you’ve kissed me in bed.”

“Oh.” Ezio canted his head to the side, eyes flickering downward to survey their joined bodies, half-tangled in the sheets and slicked with sweat. “Is that—did you like it?”

“Yes.” Niccolò slid his hands into his mentor’s hair and drew him close, pressing a hungry kiss to the scar on his mouth, sighing when Ezio’s tongue darted out to lick at his lips, soft and searching. “Yes. I did.”


	2. Minutes

“If we trust this to anyone, it should be Tessa. We need subtlety, and poisoning will give her enough time to—” Niccolò paused and glanced up from his notes, looking over his shoulder at his mentor. “Are you listening?”

“No.” Ezio frowned, rubbing a hand along his jaw, his brows furrowing. “How long has your ass looked like that?”

“What?”

“Like—that.” The assassin reached out and gently cupped a hand around Niccolò’s rear, squeezing lightly and quirking an eyebrow upward when he got a growl in return. “Perky as a girl’s.”

“That’s—” Niccolò’s cheeks abruptly reddened, and he swatted Ezio’s hand away, turning back to his desk. “I want to focus on this.”

“I can see that. And yet.” Ezio stepped closer, wrapping both hands around the younger man’s hips and pressed the bulge of his crotch into Niccolò’s ass, grinding against him deliberately and chuckling when his protege all but snarled at him. “I think you need to take a moment and let me enjoy you.”

“How interesting.” Niccolò drove an elbow backwards into Ezio’s ribs, relishing the hard grunt of pain. “But I must decline. Tessa, then?”

Pouting, Ezio reluctantly backed away, rubbing the fresh bruise on his side. “I suppose.”

With a roll of his eyes, Niccolò grabbed the front of his mentor’s robes and tugged him close, placing a hand directly on the half-hard cock tucked in Ezio’s trousers. “Soon. Alright?”

A spark of interest in those dark eyes, the flicker of a grin on that handsomely scarred mouth—was that truly all it took to make his own body ache with want? “Promise?”

“I promise.”

Ezio leaned in a little, lips parted in clear invitation, and for a moment Niccolò wanted to indulge him—what harm in one kiss, in one quick taste of that devious tongue—but he placed a hand on Ezio’s broad chest and pushed gently, making a little space for air (or Christ, as his mother would say) between them.

“Go downstairs,” he murmured, curling his fingers against the assassin’s impossibly firm chest, licking his lips at the sight of the bulge in Ezio’s hose. “I’ll be along in a few minutes.”

“But—”

“Ezio. I want you to go downstairs, go into my quarters, remove all of your clothes, and prostrate yourself upon my bed. I am going to accost the first recruit who stumbles into my path and make them send out this contract.” He grasped Ezio’s wrist and drew that powerful hand back to his ass, chuckling when fingers dug in and groped him roughly. “Go.”

“Alright.” Ezio leaned in and kissed him before Niccolò could ward him off, and for a few heady seconds it was like they were undressed already, the union of their mouths so firm and so delicious that Niccolò had to swallow the moan that tried to creep across his tongue and onto Ezio’s. “But if you’re not in bed with me in a few minutes—your words, not mine—I am coming after you.”

“Deal,” Niccolò whispered, and grinned when Ezio swatted his ass before turning and heading downstairs with a bounce in his step.

 


	3. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is this even
> 
> What did I
> 
> What

“Wait—mm—wait.” Ezio wedged a hand between his mouth and Caterina’s, canting his head to the side with a wry grin when she growled at him ( _growled_ at him! This woman. Christ.) and made another attempt at undressing him with her grabbing hands. “No, no, wait—I want to wait for him.”

“He’ll take ages.” Caterina seized the front of his robes and pulled him close, standing on tiptoe to brush her lips teasingly along his hand, still held up as a barrier against her sweetness. “Come, _caro_ , how long can you stand to wait?”

“If he comes in and finds us fucking, we’ll never get him into bed. And _I’ll_ never hear the end of it.”

Caterina huffed, stepping back and crossing her arms over her chest. “Fine.”

Ezio patted her cheek consolingly and tossed himself into the bed, stretching widely before lacing his hands behind his head. He shot Caterina a cheeky grin and patted his lap.

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you had a seat.”

She rolled her eyes, but even so she was already stepping out of her underclothes and climbing into Ezio’s lap, opening her thighs around him and snuggling in close until the clothed need between his legs pressed against the wetness between hers.

Ezio’s eyes darkened, lower lip sucked between his teeth as he placed his hands on her hips and groaned at the first teasing wriggle of her body. “ _Fuck_.”

“Mm. You like that?”

“You know I do.” His fingers tripped up her sides and ribs; he placed his palms flat against her breasts and smiled when she arched into him, a smile on her face, the lovely cascade of her red hair sweetly framing her pale shoulder. “You are so beautiful.”

The sound of an opening door interrupted her response. With a squeal, Caterina leapt off his lap, bounding across the room and throwing both arms upon their startled partner. Machiavelli put his arms around her more out of instinct than intent, uttering a surprised noise into their kiss before her mouth crushed his in her enthusiasm.

“Welcome back,” Ezio said, laughing as Niccolò extracted the woman enough that he could shuffle into the room and close the door behind him. “We were waiting for you.”

“So I— _mmn_ —see.” Niccolò caught Caterina’s grabby hands as they tugged at the buckle of his belt. “Cat, give me two seconds…”

“No. I’ve wasted enough seconds.” His belt clattered to the floor; her arms were around him, turning him around and guiding him backwards until his calves collided with the mattress and he toppled backwards onto the bed. “Ezio.”

“Right.” The master assassin leaned forward and caught Niccolò’s mouth in an upside-down kiss before he could protest, tasted all of two seconds of resistance before the younger man opened for him with a quiet, helpless little sound that made Ezio’s already eager cock twitch. Without aforethought he plunged a hand into Niccolò’s clothes, scratching his nails along a proud collarbone, smoothing his palm over a firm chest.

Ezio tasted more than felt Niccolò’s sharp groan into his mouth, and drew back long enough to glance down at Caterina. He found her already palming the bulge in their lover’s hose, lip caught between her teeth and a grin on her face while she watched them kiss. Ezio rolled his eyes at her before dipping his head and slipping his tongue back into Niccolò’s mouth, free hand making quick work of his own remaining clothes.

A hand joined his in Niccolò’s doublet. Caterina sat up on the younger man’s hips, rocking against him and pawing at his body stretched out beneath her. Her free hand left a teasing caress along the underside of Ezio’s bared cock, and he felt Niccolò’s mouth quirk upwards at  his plaintive moan. Ezio caught the assassin’s lower lip between his teeth, tugging that smile out of place before licking at the marks his teeth had left.

Caterina’s shy little touches roughened, her cupped fingers making a hot, dry drag around his cock that made Ezio’s mouth fall open and his body clench with want. Niccolò finally wriggled free of a slick kiss and cupped a hand around the back of Ezio’s neck, drawing him close and raking his teeth along his mentor’s pulse, biting in when Ezio groaned encouragement through gritted teeth. He reached out blindly, found the damp patch spreading across Niccolò’s hose and yanked at the laces until they came undone.

“Oh, God,” Caterina murmured, and Ezio fairly whimpered at the sight of her skin flush against Niccolò’s, his cock and her clit swollen and blood-red and the both of their hips lurching into this perversion of sex. “Fuck. Machia.”

Niccolò tangled his hands in her fiery hair and kissed her, and she permitted it for all of five seconds before she grasped his wrists and pinned him to the bed, lips and tongue slicking his throat while she pleasured herself on his body.

“Ezio,” she gasped out, and he scrambled around to get behind her, shuffling forward on his knees until his thighs slid in under hers. He teased her entrance with the tip of his cock, delighting in the delay, shuddering at the sensation of her wetness along his shaft, quickly soaked fingertips slipping along the warm pinkness of her sex until she snarled “ _Go already_.”

He grasped her hips and thrust in, and the shunt of her body forward made Niccolò release a stuttered cry. Caterina was squirming, breathless little moans escaping her sex-plumped lips while she stretched her body over Niccolò’s, her grip tightening on his wrists. Ezio leaned forward over her back, hitching himself deep into her body, bracing his hands on Niccolò’s sturdy biceps to steady himself with the first rough thrust.

“Fuck, _fuck_ ,” Niccolò breathed, beckoning Ezio with a tip of his chin, and Caterina nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck to give the assassins room to kiss.

They set an easy pace. Despite the desperation of their foreplay, Ezio enjoyed a nice slow fuck, relishing the wetness and the warmth of Caterina’s body while she panted and whimpered against Niccolò’s throat, her fingers flexing and opening and closing again around his wrists. Niccolò read his mentor’s rhythm easily, rocking his hips up in time with each thrust, his cock rubbing up slick against her clit while Ezio grunted and searched for the right angle to bring her to euphoria.

“Oh,” she gasped suddenly, and her lower back bowed, pressing her round ass against Ezio’s hips; her hands released Niccolò’s wrists to press into his chest instead, bracing her against the powerful rocking of the master assassin’s body. “Oh, _oh_ —there—fuck—”

Niccolò grinned, freed hands rubbing down her belly and to her sex, trapping her clit between his cock and his thumbs, and Ezio groaned when she clenched down tight around him. “You like that, milady?”

“Oh, shut up,” she gasped, but she and Niccolò kissed with mindless, stupid lust while her nails scored deep red lines across his chest. Ezio stuttered out a moan, pressing his mouth to her shoulder and thrusting into her with a little more urgency when he felt his balls begin to tighten, that sweet pressure mounting white-hot at the base of his spine.

“One of you cum,” Niccolò murmured. “I don’t care who.”

“Filthy boy,” Caterina whispered, but then she was trembling between them, shivering and shuddering when Niccolò arched his hips up and stayed there, thumb rubbing hard circles right above her clit while he ground against her sex. Ezio thrust in hard and held steady, giving her something to clench down on while she came in their arms, mumbling weak pleas to deities holy and otherwise against Niccolò’s grinning mouth while her climax dampened both of the assassins in her bed.

“Mm.” Ezio gave an experimental little roll of his hips, chuckling when she keened quietly. “That felt like a good one.”

“Indeed.” Niccolò’s fingers slid along the base of his mentor’s cock before slipping inside Caterina’s body. “Fuck. She’s so wet. Cat, can you go again?”

“No,” she groaned, her face pressed into his shoulder, muffling her voice. “You two take care of one another.”

Ezio rolled his eyes and pulled himself free of her body with a backwards jerk of his hips, wincing at the sudden chill on his cock and hurriedly wrapping a hand around his length. “Niccolò…”

“I know.” The younger man was already slicking his fingertips in Caterina’s sex, kissing her as he did so, beckoning to Ezio with his unoccupied hand. The master assassin joined him, turning around to nudge his ass into Niccolò’s hips.

His protege—the only one with permission to use their mentor’s body so—prepared him with sure, gentle thrusts of his fingers into Ezio’s body, stretching him until Ezio was panting requests for more into the mattress. The first press of Niccolò’s cock into his body made him see white; he twisted his fists into the coverlet, gritting his teeth at the sight of Niccolò’s hands wrapping around the headboard to steady himself.

“Caterina,” Niccolò murmured, but she was already shifting to join them, lying beside their entangled bodies and wrapping a firm, warm hand around Ezio’s cock, jerking him swiftly to the rhythm of Niccolò’s rough thrusts.

Ezio closed his eyes, hanging his head between his braced arms. He let sensation carry him away. Slick fingers on his manhood, leaving white-hot touches on his tip. Niccolò lowering his hands, pressing his fists into the mattress and biting down on his mentor’s shoulder. Rough hips and a nice thick cock fucking him like they were animals in heat, or youngsters flush with the euphoria of a first lover. Caterina’s hand tangled in his hair, drew his head down, and he felt the last vestiges of his control slip away when her lips met his. She tasted the same after all these years, all sweetness and warmth while Machiavelli tasted like spice and wine.

Niccolò grunted and leaned forward, hips pressed flush to Ezio’s ass, and he moaned against his mentor’s back. Ezio fought to steady his racing heart, breathing slowly through the the last few snaps of Niccolò’s hips and the spill of ejaculate into the grandmaster’s body. The younger assassin stayed inside him, recovering against his back, the hot gusts of his panting breath raising the hair on Ezio’s neck. Caterina stole his attention with another slow kiss; she squirmed her way beneath him, her hands on him, tugging softly on his cock.

“Come now, Mentor.” Niccolò’s hand joined hers, but it was the soft, sultry lilt of the diplomat’s voice pushing Ezio to the edge. “Cum for me. Hm?” A bite on his shoulder, the grip on his cock roughening, becoming urgent. “Don’t keep me waiting.”

Ezio groaned, hitching his ass back against Niccolò’s firm frame, and came messily on Caterina’s stomach while white-hot pleasure crackled up and down his spine, leaving him gasping into clumsy kisses while his body jumped and twitched against his diligent lovers.

“Hm.” Caterina giggled, petting Ezio’s hair when at last he groaned and lowered his head onto her chest, breathless. “He’s normally so much more stoic than that.”

“He normally doesn’t have a cock up his ass when he cums, though.” Niccolò withdrew with a wince, rubbing his fingertips along his sensitive member before giving Ezio’s ass an appreciative swat. “Well done.”

“Oh, piss off,” Ezio mumbled, sinking down gratefully into the mattress, making himself comfortable on top of Caterina’s warm body.

“Ezio, for the love of—you’re really too big for this, you know?”

“Mm. I don’t care.”

Niccolò snorted, getting to his feet and mopping himself off with the damp rags they’d long since learned to keep by their bedside. “You’re so rude.”

Caterina lifted her head off the pillow, frowning at their younger companion. “Don’t tell me you’re leaving.”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Oh, Machia…”

Niccolò offered her his easy smile, already pulling his tunic back over his head. “I’m sorry. It’s just—”

“Just nothing.” Ezio got up with speed and grace a man his age shouldn’t have, looping one arm around Niccolò’s waist and lifting him off his feet, carting him back to the bed and dumping him unceremoniously on top of a startled Caterina. “You’re going nowhere.”

“What?! Ezio—”

“No buts.”

“I didn’t say—”

“I don’t care,” the grandmaster replied crossly, and climbed back into bed before leaning in to press a firm kiss against Niccolò’s protesting mouth. “Niccolò. Stay with us tonight.” He caressed the younger man’s jaw, admiring his swollen lips and flushing cheeks. “ _Caro_.”

“Oh, for the love of…” But Niccolò was already settling in, soothed by his mentor’s caresses, by Caterina’s hands guiding him into the bed. He reluctantly lay back against the pillow, sighing when Ezio flopped backwards and slung an arm over them both while Caterina giggled.

“Goodnight, Niccolò,” she said, tilting her head up to press a sweet kiss to his cheek. He grunted at her, protested briefly when Ezio leaned over to mimic her, but didn’t try to escape the bed again until morning.

 

 


	4. Doze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Really into napping and petting happy trails lately.

Ezio came back to headquarters and found another’s body in his bed. He couldn’t help but smile at the sight—at Machiavelli lying facedown on the mattress, still fully dressed, snoozing lightly with his face turned against the pillow, his hair sticking up in useless raven-colored tufts. Ezio seated himself carefully on the side of the bed and tugged off the younger man’s boots; Machiavelli mumbled but didn’t wake.

“Niccolò.” Ezio leaned down close and brushed his lips across the shell of his protege’s ear.

“.... _Mn_. Stoppit…”

“There isn’t any room for me.”

A pause—and then Machiavelli sluggishly pushed himself to the right side of the bed before turning his face away and relaxing with a low sigh. Ezio chuckled, stripping out of his robes and armor. He lay down and tugged the coverlet free, ignoring Machiavelli’s groans of protest when he was manhandled onto his side and spooned by the older assassin.

“What’re you…”

“Napping. Hush.” Ezio slid a hand beneath Machiavelli’s clothes and rested his palm on the younger man’s warm stomach, stroking a thumb along the trail of dark hair beneath his navel. “Go back to sleep.”

He needn’t have said anything—Niccolò was already snoring, gone to the world. Ezio smiled and pressed his face into his protege’s shoulder, inhaling his scent, and, overcome by the warmth of Niccolò’s body pressed into his, drifted off himself.


End file.
